


Baby Days

by KaleidoScopeOfIce



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: ABDL, Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Caregiver/little, Caretaking, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Onesies, Pacifiers, bottle feeding, little!Mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 15:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12460260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaleidoScopeOfIce/pseuds/KaleidoScopeOfIce
Summary: I've noticed that there aren't too many fics out there of Little!Mark, seeing as how Little!Jack is more popular.  So I wrote this bitch.  Again, I apologize if this isn't your cup of tea.  As I am a fellow Age Regressor, this kind of stuff is very fun and stress-relieving for me to write.





	Baby Days

**Author's Note:**

> I've noticed that there aren't too many fics out there of Little!Mark, seeing as how Little!Jack is more popular. So I wrote this bitch. Again, I apologize if this isn't your cup of tea. As I am a fellow Age Regressor, this kind of stuff is very fun and stress-relieving for me to write.

“SON OF A FUCKING DICKBAG! ARE YOU SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW?!”

Jack looked up from his phone from his seat on the couch, to the stairs where Mark's recording room was. It wasn't unusual to hear the older youtuber scream a list of creative profanities while he was recording a video, but Jack knew how to identify Mark's anger. Often in his videos, it would just be for show and comedic purposes, but sometimes the rage would be legit, and Mark would end up breaking an appliance or two in the process. Jack stayed in his spot and continued to scroll through tumblr, when the ill-tempered shouting came again.

“NO! THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT! I FUCKING SWEAR TO CHRIST YOU ARE FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!”

There was suddenly the sound of something lightweight being tossed hard against the wall. Jack could only take a guess that it was Mark's headphones that had been brutally punished. Figuring it was time to go and make sure that he didn't proceed to break anything else, Jack deposited his phone into his back pocket and made his way upstairs. Being polite, he knocked on the door of Mark's recording room.

“Mark? You okay in there?”

No response, except for tired groaning. Jack took that as a sign to enter. Opening the door, he caught sight of Mark at his standing desk, hunched over his keyboard with his head in his hands.

“Mark?” Jack tried again, approaching the brunette from behind and resting a calming hand on his shoulder. “Hey, what's wrong? Game being a dick again?”

Mark nodded a little. Jack opened his mouth to say something, but noticed with a bit of shock that the other was shaking slightly. This caused Jack's expression to fall, and the Irishman gently rubbed his back. “Hey, hey...it's okay, alright? You're okay, you're okay.” He hadn't expected Mark to slip into headspace suddenly, but it made sense. Often when the youtuber got very distressed, he would usually slip. Jack fished out a tissue from the brunette's tissue box by the keyboard and reached forward, carefully wiping away the tears that began running down Mark's cheeks. “Ssssshhhhhh, it's okay, Mark. It's just a game, and everybody gets angry, okay?” Jack comforted, wiping at the other's nose. He leaned forward, gently kissing Mark's temple.

“You wanna go to the park? We can bring Chica with us and go swing on the swings at the park. Would you like that?”

Mark sniffled and gave another silent nod.

Jack smiled. “Okay then. Let's get your shoes on and go put Chica's harness on, then we'll go, okay?”

This time Mark wiped at his nose with another sniffle, looking up at Jack through big teary eyes.

“Ok,” he replied; his voice small and quiet.

\---------

Mark and Jack walked hand in hand to the park, with Mark hanging his head and hiding his face. Something that he often did when he wasn't in the best of moods. However, he may have just been embarrassed. He was teetering between being Big and being Little; his mind not really sure what to do. Jack held onto Chica's leash as the golden retriever obediently trotted alongside them. As they grew closer to the park and the swings now visible, Jack gently gripped Mark's hand.

“Hey Mark, look! There's the swings!” he spoke with quiet excitement, enticing Mark to look up. The brunette lifted his head, and immediately, childish wonder flooded his eyes upon seeing the brightly colored swingset.

“Swingset! Swingset!” Mark cheered, happily swinging Jack's arm back and forth. “Can I go swing, please? Please?”

Jack grinned. “Of course, buddy.”

“Yaaaaay!”

Mark let go of Jack's hand and sprinted towards the swingset, as Jack let go of Chica's leash and let the dog follow after him. Luckily the park was deserted at this time, so it was just the three of them.

“Jack! Jack! Could you come push me please?” Mark called out to the other, sitting himself down in one of the swing seats.

“Of course!” Jack was behind Mark in seconds, holding onto the chains. “Ready, Little buddy? Hold on tight!”

Mark happily fidgeted in his seat, before he erupted in joyous laughter as Jack pulled the swing back and then pushed him forward. Chica barked, wanting to chase after Mark as he practically flew through the air.

“Not too high!” Mark called out to Jack, kicking his legs back and forth.

“You got it, sport!”

The swinging lasted for a good ten minutes, till Mark decided that he was done. Eventually the swinging came to a stop, as Jack helped the brunette slow down. Mark gave an excited giggle; his face pink from the earlier adrenaline. Jack smiled warmly as he ruffled the older man's hair. He then helped pull Mark out of his seat.

“Okay, Little fella. Did you wanna play around in the park some more? Or are you ready to go home?”

Mark brought a hand up, starting to bite at his thumbnail as his voice got very quiet again. “I...I wanna go home now.”

The Irishman grinned and leaned forward to give a soft kiss to Mark's forehead. “Okay, buddy. Let's go.”

\---------

By the time they had gotten home, Mark had finally stopped fighting headspace. Their time at the park had left Mark tired, as Jack could clearly see when looked over at the passenger seat to see the older man with his eyes shut and his thumb in his mouth. Mark was curled up against the door and looked as peaceful as can be. The image alone tugged at Jack's heartstrings. As they pulled up to Mark's house, Jack shut off the car.

“Hey Mark? Markimoo, wake up. We're home,” Jack softly called to Mark, gently rubbing the youtuber's shoulder. He watched as Mark's eyes slowly peeked open and looked back at him.

“C'mon buddy, wakey wakey. I still gotta make us dinner,” said Jack, unbuckling his seatbelt. Mark gave a small grumble, before closing his eyes and resuming on sucking his thumb again. Jack sighed, getting out of the car and rounding over to Mark's side. Carefully opening the door, as to make sure Mark didn't come falling out, Jack leaned over him, giving a soft kiss to his head.

“C'mon Markimoo. Time to go inside.”

Mark still didn't budge. His eyes were half-lidded and his brain seemed to be on the foggy side as he sat there, sucking his thumb in content. Jack tried another approach.

“I'll let you color in your book while I make dinner. Would you like that?”

At this, Mark finally caved and pulled his thumb out of his mouth, before sitting up and tiredly rubbing his eyes. Jack grinned, unbuckling Mark before taking his hand and helping him out of the car. Once inside, they made their way to Mark's room. Jack knew where everything was. At least, where all of Mark's comfort items were. Digging into a drawer, he pulled out Mark's favorite coloring book. It was pokemon themed, and already filled with many colored pictures Mark had done in the past. Jack was in the process of fishing out the box of crayons when he heard Mark give a small whine. He looked over his shoulder.

“What's wrong, buddy?”

Mark's eyes were to the floor again, and he was resisting with all of his might to suck on his thumb. Jack could see it. He approached the Little, gently taking Mark's hand in his own and softly rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

“You gotta go potty?” Jack asked.

“N-No.” Mark looked to be very uncomfortable all of a sudden. Jack noticed the way he was tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Would you like Daddy to put you in some new clothes?” Jack asked, now understanding.

Mark nodded sheepishly, to which Jack simply smiled. “Of course, Little buddy. Want Daddy to pick out your favorite onesie?”

Another nod.

A few minutes later, Mark felt like he could finally breathe. The coziness of his favorite bright red onesie(with a picture of Winnie the Pooh on the front) brought instant relief to his senses. 

Jack held up a baby blue pacifier to Mark's lips. “Open up. Don't want you sucking on your dirty thumb all night, ya goober. We'll have to give your teeth a good brushing before I put you to bed tonight.”

Mark graciously accepted the paci, letting it rest on his tongue as he gently sucked on it. Much better than his dirty thumb to begin with.

“Okay Little guy, ready to do some colorin'?” Jack asked, ruffling Mark's hair. The youtuber smiled behind his binkie and excitedly nodded.

\-----------

Jack made sure to glance over his shoulder every now and then at Mark as he made dinner. Mark was becoming more and more comfortable with his surroundings now, as he scribbled away in his coloring book. Jack saw the determination on his face; pacifier bobbing happily between his lips as he switched from crayon to crayon. Putting his pot pie in the oven, Jack strolled on over to the Little.

“Who're you colorin', buddy?” he asked, leaning over and inspecting Mark's work.

“Chawizawd!” the older man exclaimed, his words muffled behind his binkie. Mark was coloring so intensively that he had already used up two orange crayons. It wasn't the prettiest coloring job in the world, but seeing the effort that Mark had put into it made Jack grin like an idiot.

“Oh really?” the Irishman replied. “Look, he's breathing a big ball of fire! Are you gonna color that in too?”

“Mhm!” Mark nodded. He picked up two crayons. One red and the other yellow. “Gonna use deez ones!”

“Good choice!” Jack ruffled Mark's hair, mussing it up further.

Once dinner was ready, Mark and Jack sat down to eat. Jack took a bite of his chicken pot pie, humming in content at the taste, and tried to stifle a giggle when he watched Mark chomp down onto a star shaped chicken nugget and get ketchup on his nose. Thank goodness he put a bib on him beforehand.

The day eventually wore down to a close. Jack finished cleaning up his and Mark's mess in the kitchen, and made his way into the living room, where he had put Mark down in his playpen shortly after eating. Mark was fully deep in headspace, still sucking on his pacifier as he tried stacking a few building blocks, trying to create a tower. In his free hand he clutched onto a rattle, occasionally shaking it about and causing it to rattle loudly.

Jack crouched down, rest his hands on his knees. “Hey little guy, you havin' fun?” he asked.

Mark looked up from his teetering tower; Jack's gentle voice grabbing his attention. The older man smiled behind his binkie and happily shook his rattle, causing Jack to chuckle. “Well, it's beddy bye time, kiddo. You wanna get out of the playpen and Daddy can help you get ready for bed?”

Mark's pacifier immediately fell out of his mouth. Jack had to hold back a snicker at the pout that formed on Mark's face. The older man whined loudly. Clearly bed time was the last thing he wanted to do. At this, Jack smiled and pulled Mark to his feet.

“C'mon, cranky baby. It's already getting past your bed time,” said Jack, helping the Little out of the playpen.

“Don't want to,” Mark mumbled quietly.

“I know you don't want to, buddy, but Daddy says it's time for bed.”

When Mark didn't look convinced, Jack tried again.

“If you go upstairs and get into your pjs now, Daddy will bring you a nice bottle of cold milk. Would you like that? It always sends you right to sleep.”

Mark's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?”

“Yes, really. But you gotta go and put your pajamas on first, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy!”

Mark was up the stairs in a flash.

\----------

And that was where Jack later found Mark, sitting cross-legged on his bed in his banana yellow dog-printed pjs. He was practically bouncing in place with a goofy smile. The perfect picture of childlike innocence.

“Ready for your bottle, baby?” Jack asked, taking a seat on the bed beside Mark. The Little nodded, and allowed Jack to gather him onto his lap, cradling him in his arms. Before Jack could guide the teat to his mouth, Mark instinctively reached for the bottle. Jack pulled it away, causing Mark to whine loudly.

“Just be patient, Markimoo. Daddy doesn't want you to choke again,” Jack firmly said, but still gentle in his words.

Mark sighed, and allowed the bottle to come to him, as Jack slipped the teat past his lips. He was quick to suckle, drinking down the creamy milk heartily as Jack held him up right just a little bit.

“Slow down, buddy. You're gonna give yourself a brain freeze,” Jack chastised, pulling the bottle away again. Mark merely whimpered, looking at the Irishman with big, innocent eyes. Shaking his head with a chuckle, Jack offered the bottle back to Mark one more time. The older man took it slow on the final try. “There we go. Much better.” Jack placed a kiss on Mark's forehead.

The bottle was soon emptied, and sure enough, Mark had dozed off in Jack's lap, leaning against the Irishman's chest and slightly drooling. Jack gave a quiet chuckle and used the collar of Mark's shirt to wipe up the drool. After that, he very carefully laid the older man down onto his bed. Jack made sure to tuck him in snugly, and gently placed Mark's tiny box Tim plush beside him.

He left the door open just a crack, before hitting the lightswitch.

“Goodnight, Markimoo.”


End file.
